


pretty

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Body Image, Gen, im projecting a bit, selflove, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: And he catches sight of his reflection in the camera, bags beneath his eyes, hastily combed hair and all.“I’m pretty today, aren’t I?”-Bad knows he shouldn't put himself down. Self love is tough when you resent yourself.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: anonymous





	pretty

He catches his face in the mirror. Deepest eyes, smudged lenses, a frown set that seem stitched onto his lips.

He quickly looks away. 

\---

“Why do you have that stupid filter on, Bad! You’re pretty already!”

“I know,” he lies, “thank you.”

Fake it till you make it, right? So he soaks in their compliments and drowns himself in the praise. 

But each time they say those words. Handsome, pretty, beautiful, he’s embittered. It’s sweet of them, of course. But he wishes he didn’t surround himself in lies.

\---

He remembers when he was first starting out with streaming. Much smaller channel back then. It makes him laugh to think that Skeppy was a fan back then.

Back then, he hadn’t adopted the “wholesome persona”. His audience reflected that.

A message pops up in the chat. 

*ugly*

And it’s the internet, it’s expected, so he laughs it off. 

And when the message repeats, he pretends as if he doesn’t notice.

But once he’s in bed, the word bobs above the surface in the sea of his consciousness.

\---

He’s met with his face again. He tries on a smile.

The encouraging words of his closest friend in mind, he prepares to broadcast to thousands once again.

\---

“Hey muffins!” 

The chat fills with “hi” and “bad!” and the warmth in his heart isn’t forced or strained.

Sure he sees it. Sneaking in between messages. Nipping at him like miniature piranhas in a pool of dolphins.

And he smiles. And he laughs.

And he catches sight of his reflection in the camera, bags beneath his eyes, hastily combed hair and all.

“I’m pretty today, aren’t I?”


End file.
